


too close to the sun

by fs1919



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based off the Fall of Icarus, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 12:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fs1919/pseuds/fs1919
Summary: Dongmin was warned, time and time again, do not fly too close to the sun.He meant to listen.He really did.





	too close to the sun

**Author's Note:**

> OH my god, so I've only recently become an aroha and this is my first time writing fic for Astro, so I hope yall like this. I wasn't going to write anything tbh but I'm a sucker for rarepairs and apparently 2J is a rarepair???? they're so so so cute so I was like u know what let me add my shitty ideas into the mix.
> 
> So enjoy this Icarus AU!!!!

_Do not fly too close to the sun_ , his father warned him, time and time again. _Do not drop too close to the sea, do not fly too close to the sun_ , _be careful, be vigilant._

He meant to listen. Dongmin really, truly meant to listen, especially when his father gripped his shoulder like that, especially when the concern in his exhausted eyes burned holes into him, warned him of the consequences of horrors.

But, as he peered at the wings drooping off his arms, fashioned so beautifully, each individual feather twinkling under the candlelight of his father’s workshop, he dreamt of soaring through the skies, feeling the wind against his skin, tasting the salty sea breeze just _so_ , out of this labyrinth of horrors, out, out, out. _Free._

They warned him of the sun.

When he soars into the blue sky, it is a whole new world. It is everything he imagines and so much more. The wind dances—he is a graceful creature, with pretty eyes and a tiny smirk playing on his lips. He is fluid, boneless, spinning and spinning, his steps fast, his fingers light, barely there, as they dance across Dongmin’s skin, for just a moment. Dongmin soars and he is breathless.

“You’re new.” He whispers, his voice both far away and so close, here and there. Dongmin’s feathers flutter as the Wind slinks closer, poking experimentally at each individual wax feather. “These are newer.” He wiggles them once more, pretty eyes widening. “Woah.”

“Be careful with those.” Dongmin manages to say, angling upwards just a bit, trying to maintain the perfect distance between the sun and the sea. He can feel the heat of the sun on his skin—it’s a new feeling he’s never experienced before, not after all those years trapped within that labyrinth. There’s a pause, where the Wind just looks at him, something unreadable dancing in his eyes. Then the Wind spins, twirls, laughter consuming his body in a way that has Dongmin wondering if he could ever be that happy, that carefree.

His dark grey hair falls into his eyes as he comes to a sudden halt, slowly appraising Dongmin, wide smile growing wider and wider. Then he swivels on his heel, twirling, swinging, moving closer to the sea. Dongmin follows, his wings drifting with the gentle breeze, unconsciously floating closer to the sea.

But then he remembers. They warned him. They _warned_ him.

(But Dongmin’s heard stories of the sun and the sea and the wind and the gods who controlled them. Dongmin had always wondered of them.)

Still, he catches himself, jerking upwards, away, _away_.

The Wind sits, perched atop of the sea, head tilted to the side as he watches Dongmin soar back up, to safer territory.

Mischief emanates from his eyes, from the grin that drips from his lips. Dongmin notices there is someone else there, resting beside the Wind, someone with a glinting golden crown nestled in his black hair and a trident settled over his shoulder, watching him fly, his head moving with languid fluidity. Dongmin is intrigued, for just a moment, but then he shakes it away, pulling himself up and away.

He reminds himself that his father is waiting for him, on the other side.

He thinks of his father’s concern and he keeps going, maintaining that perfect balance.

As he flies, he can smell the sea salt in the air. He can feel the warmth of the sun on his skin and the chilling dance of the Wind still lingering. He can feel everything all at once and as he soars a bit higher, he relishes in it all. Wraps himself up in all the feelings, skin tingling with anticipation, a small laugh leaving his lips. For a moment, he feels so fucking invincible.

In the deepest depths of his mind, he knows this is dangerous, this invincibility, this pride in his ability to persevere, to reach this moment, this moment of freedom that makes him feel so _alive,_ so _powerful._ He knows it is dangerous to succumb to intrigue, to curiosity, to look up at the sun, just to _see_ it. It’s dangerous, but he feels as if nothing can touch him. Not even the sun can ruin his freedom.

So, he looks.

They warned him of the sun, but they never warned him of the _Sun_.

The first thing he thinks is: _he is beautiful_. As Dongmin bursts through the clouds, relishing in the slight relief of cool moisture against his burning skin, he finds he is in awe. The Sun—he is beautiful; golden hair, warm eyes, golden skin, gilded robes, draped so pretty around him, like the clouds themselves are dripping off him. He lounges, his full lips pursing for a moment as he takes Dongmin in, perched so elegantly atop the sun, unbothered by the heat waves trickling off it. The sun is his throne and Dongmin is filled with reverence.

And then the Sun smiles.

It is bright, blinding, and it is everything Dongmin had ever dreamed of, from his years trapped in that awful labyrinth. Sometimes, he'd lay there in his cot, and stare at the ceiling and wonder of the sea, the stars, the sun—his father told him stories, of the sun gods, of _outside_ , of things beyond this cage. Dongmin does not care much, right then, for the warnings ringing in his head. He laughs, breathless, exhilarated, tongue dry, throat parched, as he drifts closer. His face burns. Dongmin smiles, still.

He manages to say, blurts out really, mesmerized, “You’re the _Sun_.”

“Myungjun. I am Myungjun.” The Sun—Myungjun, Myungjun, _Myungjun—_ gifts him a dazzling smile that leaves little black spots dancing in Dongmin's vision. His head feels light. Dongmin blinks when Myungjun continues, his voice pitched, amused, almost fond, “I’ve watched you fly free, Dongmin.”

Dongmin’s cheeks flush. His skin burns. There is another figure, perched right behind the sun, made of a sturdy build, features boyish but stoic, watchful, though there is amusement flickering in his eyes.

“But, you were never meant to come up here.” Myungjun continues, sighing gently.

His smile dims and it is sad, ancient.

Dongmin blinks, wants to ask why, but his mouth is too dry. Myungjun lifts a hand and Dongmin can feel his skin puckering under the heat, can smell his flesh burning. The proximity leaves his skin burned, blackened. Dongmin is too strung up to notice the pain, to focused on Myungjun. Dongmin takes a deep, steadying breath, but it’s staggered, ragged. Myungjun pulls his hand back, smile sad. Dongmin has the inexplicable urge to reach out and touch him, right then.

“You’ve come so far, angel.” Myungjun whispers, his gaze gentle, smile sorrowful, “I am so, so sorry.”

Dongmin opens his mouth to respond when—

He lurches, dropping down suddenly, his heart racing against his ribs at the sudden tumble, eyes wide, terror settling in his heart.

His wings, he notices, are melting, one wax feather at a time. They are on fire. He looks up and all he can see is Myungjun, his beauty and his smile and all he feels is this deep, overwhelming admiration, a  _need,_ in his chest.

(“He’s got spirit. I’ll give him that.” A low voice rumbles, echoing as Dongmin starts to plummet, his skin on fire, his wings broken, gone, gone, gone.

“Shush, Jinwoo. He is brave.” Myungjun’s voice is far, far away, perhaps imagined. “He is my brave, brave angel.”

“You get so easily attached. If anything, he’s just stupid.”

“I said, _shush_. You’re not even supposed to be here right now.”)

Dongmin falls.

His limbs flail and Dongmin instantly misses the heat against his skin, the warmth, and the Wind rushes all around him, does not touch him, just echoes all around him, making it so hard to hear, so hard to breathe. His skin burns—the fire setting his wings ablaze swallows him whole, the molten wax scorching against his skin.

He falls and falls and he knows this is all his doing, for his father had _warned_ him.

(As the pain and loss settles deep within him, he realizes he is not at all invincible, not at all free. He never was, even if he felt that way, all the way up there, above the clouds, next to Myungjun, the _Sun._ )

Yet, Dongmin tries to catch one last glimpse of him. The clouds, the smoke, the flames; they all cloud his vision.

Yet, for a fleeting moment, he thinks maybe he does not mind falling like this. He thinks, if he could do it again, in another lifetime, maybe he would have constructed his own wings and soared up, up, up just to see the Sun God himself once again. He thinks maybe he would have done it over and over and over again. In another life, maybe his wings would not be so fragile, maybe Myungjun’s touch would not burn him to the bone. Maybe, it would be different.

The thought brings a smile to his face, even as he plummets, engulfed in flames, burning, sweltering. The air around him tastes of burning flesh and sea salt.

He thinks, if given another chance, he would do this all over again.

The sea catches him, none too gently, and something cracks—maybe his heart, maybe his bones, maybe _him,_ his very essence— as he is submerged in cold, cold water, his lungs filling up, up, up.

He is drowning.

He has fallen.

Yet, he smiles.

 

 ~

 

(In another life, he is exhausted to the bone, at least until he looks up to order his coffee and he’s met by a blinding smile and glowing eyes. Later, when he’s venting to his best friend, the only word he can think to describe that smile with is: _sunshine_.

In another life, he is falling, falling, falling, his heart racing, but he maintains a polite smile and murmurs, _thank you._

In another life, his coffee cup has a phone number with a cute little heart written in bubbly handwriting under his name and his face is on fire when he looks up from his drink and the barista shoots finger guns and finger hearts at him, winking.

In another life, it takes two hours and multiple frantic group chat messages to think of an opening text, before he just settles on a casual _hey, what's up?_  The group chat won't let him live it down. He eventually receives a text back reading, _I was just wondering...did it hurt when you fell from heaven?_

In another life, he _melts_ , even as he responds, _is that really the best you got?_ )

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I was writing an apocalypse au (because I'm trash for angst) but then I was like maybe that's not the best idea for a first fic into a new fandom lmfao. I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Also, for reference:
> 
> Myungjun = Apollo  
> Jinwoo = Helios  
> Minhyuk = the Wind God/Anemoi  
> Bin = Sea God/Poseidon
> 
> if you have prompts or wanna talk feel free to hmu on tumblr @chestnutheadkyungsoo


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